The Ninth Petal of the Flower
by Heartless-Nobody-24
Summary: A year after the battle with Gideon, Ramona has left Scott and moved to Chicago to try and find a peaceful life. If only she could. Ramona finds a very interesting person in Chicago, someone who she can't seem to get out of her head. Rated M for language


I do not own Scott Pilgrim or any references made or thought made.

Will I finally have a normal day in my life? Just one day; one day to be relaxed and not have to worry about something crazy happening. But no, every time I try to have a normal day something crazy has to happen. The subspace goes weird, I have to deliver a package to some freak, someone tries to flirt with me and I have to take them out, or I just have a bad hair day. Why can't I have a moment of peace?

I couldn't help but wallow in self-pity as I sit at the counter of a local bar-and-grill. There were a lot of these places around Chicago, and I think it was because of the "bar" part. I got an apartment here about a month ago, after the fight with Scott…

"Damn you Scott…" I said quietly as I took a drink of gin and tonic, and then I realized something else and I began staring at the drink in my hand. I began to hate it; I began to hate this small glass cup and the liquid inside it, and only because it was the drink that _he_ always used to drink.

"Ramona? Do you want me to throw that glass at the wall so you don't throw it and hit someone?" Clair chuckled next to me. Clair lived in the apartment next to mine, and she kinda forced me to allow her to be my friend, even though I would have preferred not to have any kind of connections in this town. You never know when you might have to pack up and move away…again. Ugh…

"I would," I respond slowly, contemplating whether I did want to throw it at someone, especially some who looked like that asshole. "But I like this place and I would rather not be kicked out of it."

"I see." Clair turned to look at the people in the diner we were in, The Repreive, and began looking for a man for her to take home for the weekend. This was Clair's weekly ritual and it worked for her: work during the week, sleep with men over weekend, sneak some money from their wallets, and send them on their way. Luckily for me, my job as a personal delivery girl for Amazon kept we well paid.

"So," Clair started after failing to find a man that looked good and wealthy, and I had an idea of where she was going to try and go with this, "There's this cute guy who works with me, and he's single. I think you'd like him."

"Listen," I turn and give her my usual 'forget it' face, "I don't want to go out with anyone. You know what's happened with me in the past and I don't need it to come up again after I just moved away from a relationship." I don't know how she had done it, but she had gotten me to tell her about the League of Evil Exes and Scott.

"Ah yes, Scott…" She said with a grin, "We have yet to finish a proper conversation about that little…"

"Prick?" I quickly added.

"I was going to say weasel, but he's your ex; so you can call him what you want."

"And I can also decide when we stop talking about him." I said impatiently.

"Uh uh, I want to know the whole story and we aren't dropping it this time." She said persistently.

"Well I'm sorry to tell you this, but it has already fallen and it is out of this discussion."

"So, by that you mean he was an asshole and you dumped him and moved to Chicago because he began stalking you and you thought he wouldn't find you in Chicago."

"Well, besides that being the most logical idea that you've made since the 'murder trying to kill me to tie up the loose ends' idea, which is not what happened and you will stop right now." I added a bit anger to the end of that to get her to stop, but it wouldn't work because she knew I couldn't stay angry at her.

"Fine. So what horrible thing happened to you today?"

"Nothing yet, and that worries me." Nothing crazy had happened to me today, and it was a Friday, which means whatever does happen will be big.

"Well hold your horses," Clair said putting her hand on my shoulder, "Look who walked in."

I turned expecting to see some mid-20s guy to be walking into the bar in a nice business suit and looking at the people as if he fell into another era, but that is not what I saw. What I saw was something that looked like it belonged in a movie, or a science fiction book at least. Five people walked into the bar, three guys and two girls, all wearing black shirts and jeans with long leather black trench coats. Each had a black fedora on and sunglasses, even though it was 9:30 at night and snowing outside. Their faces were blank except a thin grin on the face of the first guy to walk in, and he was the most interesting of them all. He was about 6 feet tall, I could see straight black hair under his fedora, he had a nice tan, and he walked as if he owned the place. He walked with his head held high and he looked around as if nobody was there, but when his eyes passed over me, I swear he did a quick double-take. Now normally I would push this off as some guy checking me out, but this was different.

"Who are they?" I whispered to Clair.

"Well the one in the lead is Elijah Remizov, and the others are his…well, I guess they would be considered his employees."

"What?" I stared at Clair. Employees, what the hell does that mean?

"Well, Remizov is the owner a private software developing industry, he makes software and then sells it to major companies for a percent of the earnings." Clair chimed off, she was good at knowing a lot of information on very strange things, and how she knew about this guy was no real surprise to me, but I wanted to know more.

"Go on…" I urged.

"He owns a huge mansion right outside of the city, and that's where he mainly runs his business. He has a office somewhere in the area but that's mainly for finance and transactions, that real computer work happens at his mansion."

"And what did you mean those guys are his 'employees'?" I was staring at this Remizov, he and his group had sat down in a booth on the side and were talking amongst one another. They had taken off their glasses and I saw that they were all in their 20s, Remizov's sunglasses were actually regular reading glasses, he hadn't noticed me staring at him from across the bar, but I had a feeling that he knew I was looking at him.

"His mansion is home to around thirty people who are all computer geniuses and they work with Remizov to make incredible things. You know this App thing for Apple and stuff?" I nodded, "He designed it and sold the idea to them."

"Wow." I sounded emotionless when I said it but I was actually intrigued.

"No one really knows much about him personally, but he is prone to sometimes become…hostile? I guess." She seemed to stutter while trying to find the right word.

"What do you mean hostile?" I looked at her confused.

Clair looked over my shoulder as something seemed to be making some crazy noise. "You might just see that tonight."

Just when I thought I might have a normal day, and possibly and interesting day, cue in the crazy stuff.

"What the hell did you tell that asshole, you bitch?" A guy began screaming at a girl just a few seats down at the bar. The guys smashed his glass of beer on the ground, sending shattered glass everywhere and making people shy away. This guy was dressed in a casual shirt and jeans, but his face was red and the look of rage he was giving was probably why, I was surprised his blonde hair didn't start on fire. The girl he was screaming at was a brunette in a blouse and jeans, she was trying to stay up and be strong but she was slowly cowering down as this man got closer. Everyone was just staring at them, but the guy didn't seem to care.

"What the hell did you say that made me the laughingstock of the entire staff? WHAT DID YOU SAY!" He said this last part and then swung his arm to knock everything on the bar onto the floor with smashes.

"I didn't say anything bad." The girl said on the verge of tears, but still trying to be strong. "I was just making a joke with some of…."

"A JOKE!" The man nearly spat back at her face. "You think something like that is funny to talk about?" The girl had tipped over her chair, and everyone was too shocked by what they were seeing to react.

The barman walked up to the guy, "Hey, either knock it off or get out here!" He shouted at the man, he looked like he was looking for something under the bar. A few people began moving away.

"How's about you mind your own GODDAMN BUSINESS, you fat-ass!" The man screamed at him. I could hear a slur in this guy's voice, and if this guy was drunk, who knew what he was going to do.

"And you!" He said looking back at the girl who flinched and stepped back, "This is what you get for laughing." He back-handed the girl and she went spinning into a table.

Before anyone could react, the guy's arm was twisted behind his back and his head got smacked into the bar so hard, an audible CRACK! was heard as the glass counter top fractured. Remizov had run up and pinned this guy down, and some people began helping the girl to sit down.

"LET GO! YOU'RE BREAKING MY ARM!" The drunk screamed as he tried to push back against Remizov, but the guy didn't even make Remizov nudge.

In a voice that I could barely hear, I heard Remizov say, "After what you just did to that girl, you are going to demand that I not put you in pain? Is that what I just heard? You should be glad that I haven't ripped your arm from its socket and then broken bones you worthless piece of shit. You are the kind of insignificant, worthless garbage that could die in the sewers and not a single person would care. I would pity you, but you're not even worth that. I want you to apologize to the woman." With that he lifted the guys head and turned it towards the girl, and I could see a bleeding cut in his head from the broken glass.

"Apologize to her." Remizov repeated.

"Go to hell, asswipe." The drunk said with a slurred voice.

Remizov then kicked the guy in the back of his knee to make the guy's knees fall hard onto the wooden floor, and Remizov moved with him into a crouch. "Apologize."

"That freakin' hurt." The drunk said and then spat into Remizov's face.

Remizov simply sighed, and then lifted the man back up onto his feet without any effort. "I guess you will never learn."

"I guess not. Ha ha ha." The drunk said to him, thinking he'd won.

"Jacob." Remizov called to the guy behind the bar. "Would mind opening the back exit? I think this guy would like to spend the rest of the night with the trash, he might feel a little more comfortable around things that remind him of himself." Some people chuckled at the joke, and that made the drunk go off again.

"YOU THINK THAT'S FUNNY! HUH? WHY DON'T YOU COME WITH AND I'LL SHOW YOU WHAT'S FUNNY?" the guy screamed struggling but not getting anywhere.

"Maybe another time," Remizov said as he pushed the guy out the back exit, "If you're stupid enough."

He shut the door and walked back and went straight to the girl who had gotten hit. After a quick look, he said it was only minor bruise and small cut from falling on the table, he made her laugh a little when he said it wasn't serious because he was a weakling.

"Everyone?" He said to get the bar's attention. "I apologize for making you have to witness that. I would apologize for the moron who is visiting his cousins in the dumpster, but I really can't" Even I laughed at that one, this guy was interesting, first he beats a guy for hitting a girl and then apologizes to people for doing it. People just don't do that these days.

"Hope everyone enjoys your night, and," turning to the barman and handing him a check, "Hope that can pay for any damages." With that he turned and walked away, but not before shifting his gaze to lock eyes with mine for a few seconds. He and his group left out the door and let in a cold breeze in his place.

"Hope that idiot doesn't try to jump him as he leaves." Clair said turning back to her drink, "Or that drunk will probably turn up on a Missing Persons list for pissing off the wrong guy."

"Missing Persons?" I said skeptically, "I think that's a bit much."

"Not when the person is rumored to have family high up in the Russian mob." Clair said, but she said it in her serious I-know-lots-of-random-things voice.

"I thought that name sounded Russian." I turned back to my own drink, only to find a slip of paper next to it.

"Did you put this here?" I asked Clair.

"Nope. What is it?" She said, she leaned on my shoulder as I opened it. She gasped when she read it, and all I could do was raise an eyebrow and put on my most surprised looking expression, which wasn't much to show that I was surprised. The note was simple:

_**I know you were watching me.**_

_**Hope to see you again.**_

_**Elijah R.**_

Well I guess tonight was more interesting than it was freaky.


End file.
